


scarves

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Long-Term Relationship(s), Marriage Proposal, Sappy, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>on their tenth anniversary, jean gives mikasa a new scarf with a surprise inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	scarves

**Author's Note:**

> i legitimately wrote this two minutes after i finished the second to last episode of oh my venus ;;

“It’s not going to replace the old one,” Jean says, running his fingers against the yarn. “And red’s more your color. But it’s getting cold, and I figured you’d need a new one.” 

Mikasa hums, tucking her hands inside his coat pockets, while Jean loops the scarf around her shoulders once, twice, three times over. It’s green, like mint leaves, and his favorite color, but this can be her’s too, she thinks, as the warmth settles around her neck. Jean’s hands are against her hair, tugging it free from her collar, wrapped around the lapels of her coat, drawing it shut. “Not that bad for my first try, huh?” he exclaims, squeezing her nose.

“Most people give rings, or flowers after ten years of knowing each other.” Mikasa twines her arm around his, cheek pressed against his shoulder. She digs her fingers into the scarf, tracing the stitches with her thumb, while the park emanates a New Year’s glow. “I like this though. It’s practical.”

Jean is smiling; Mikasa doesn’t need to look up to know it. His whole frame softens against her cheek, laughter echoing in his chest, as he presses a firm kiss to the top of her head. “If I don’t have this down after ten years, then that’s a different problem.” Jean hesitates in their stride, slowing to a stop. “But there is one more thing.”

He untangles himself from her, taking the pom-pom at the end of her scarf between his fingers. “You said something about rings earlier, and I…” Jean gives the pom-pom a taut tug, loosening the knot at the end. “I just want you to see this.”

He takes a step back, then another, dragging the spinning yarn with him. Mikasa watches him–the slight angle to his brows, his teeth biting down on his lip, while the pom-pomp fall apart between them into one, long strand of yarn. 

The ring twirls in the middle.

“I wouldn’t count the ring out just yet,” Jean exclaims from the other side of the walkway, rosy-cheeked. There’s a quiver to his voice, his whole body, when he tilts the yarn his way, sending the ring careening. “If you don’t mind walking over here, I want to ask you something.”

Something in the back of his mind has always feared that Mikasa would hate this kind of surprise–something unplanned, and threatening to the guard she keeps up. Yet, she walks towards him, lips at a slant, as the sound of her boots slow to a stop. Mikasa blinks up at him, waiting, with her hands curled around the front of Jean’s coat.

“Mikasa Ackerman, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Jean pauses, head tilted, lips chapped. The air clouds around them, while his knees threaten to bow and break. “So can I ask if you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Her hands are cold, pushing past Jean’s coat, and resting flat against his waist. Mikasa presses her forehead against his shoulder, arms folded around the rest him. “I like it,” she murmurs into the curve of his neck. “Sounds practical.” 


End file.
